


The paint's supposed to go where??

by Minako1x2



Series: Tumblr Marvel Prompts [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Body Paint, Fluff, Multi, Natasha and Clint are up to something, Steve and Bucky are a side relationship, Writing Prompt, original character who is super freaking cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:36:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3568211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minako1x2/pseuds/Minako1x2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’d been watching his expression change from confusion, to curiosity, to shock, to terror, only to cycle back again for at least a solid three minutes now. This was beginning to be ridiculous. </p><p>“Honestly, Clint. It’s not that--”</p><p>“The paint is supposed to go where?” He looked up at her--finally--the small bottles of brightly colored paint clutched tightly in both hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The paint's supposed to go where??

**Author's Note:**

> Writing prompt on Tumblr.
> 
> Prompt was: "The paint's supposed to go _where_?"

She’d been watching his expression change from confusion, to curiosity, to shock, to terror, only to cycle back again for at least a solid three minutes now. This was beginning to be ridiculous.

“Honestly, Clint. It’s not that--”

“The paint is supposed to go _where?_ ” He looked up at her--finally--the small bottles of brightly colored paint clutched tightly in both hands.

Natasha sighed. “We’ve been over this.”

“Well, it hardly seems safe.”

“It’s perfectly safe.”

“But there are so many . . . delicate areas! What if I miss and get it in the wrong place?”

“Aren’t you a master marksman?”

Clint’s panicked twist of an expression shifted into a deep frown. “I am,” he said, as if she had questioned his entire being. Which she had. On purpose.

“Then why would the paint go anywhere other than where you intend it to?” Natasha said, reaching over and popping open one of the paint bottles. “I trust you.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Clint mumbled, then grabbed the box again, reading the instructions and warnings for the hundredth time. “We’re sure this is safe?”

“It’s face paint, Clint. It’s made to go on the face.”

“Your face, my face, sure. But _her_ face?”

When he pointed, Natasha looked down at the little girl sitting on her lap. Grace Rogers-Barnes had been too busy munching on goldfish crackers to pay much attention to the discussion at hand, but looked up at them both when realizing she was once again the center of attention and smiled brightly. She was already dressed in a red, white, and blue dress, her blonde hair in pigtails, and a headband of springy star antennae sat at Nat’s hip, ready to go on once the face painting was complete. James had taken Steve out for some alone time while the rest of them got the party ready. Nat and Clint had taken babysitting duty.

“Star!” Grace said, beaming and throwing her hands up in excitement. Her vocabulary was growing, but was still oddly patriotic. The prevailing theory named the culprit as none other than one Tony Stark.

“See?” Nat said, placing a kiss on the little girl’s head, then looking back at Clint. “Don’t you want to be the best uncle ever?”

“I want to be an alive uncle. Barnes will kill me if I get it in her eyes.”

“Then don’t get it in her eyes!”

“But what if--”

“Just paint the stars on her face, Clint!” She paused, then reached for the paint brush. “Or I’ll just do it.”

 

In the end, Clint painted the stars. In a perfect sweeping line along the little girl’s cheekbone. No paint got anywhere near her eyes.

Steve arrived back at the tower surprised by the party--despite it being his birthday. He’d grown used to the others making up excuses to take Grace for a few hours. (It was often teased that she was the Avengers’ new mascot). But what surprised him most was the tiny little Fourth of July--of rather, Captain America-esque--fairly that toddled up to him, tutu and antennae and face paint and all. He’d ooed and awed and spent a good portion of the rest of the evening taking pictures of her.

It was Bucky who demanded to see the box for the paint, (though only when Steve wasn’t looking), reading it a thousand times despite Natasha’s eye-rolls and assurances that it was all natural and safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on tumblr!  
> I'm there posting about marvel, and writing, and dance! (eclectic, yes ^_^)
> 
>  
> 
> [katewmartin](http://www.katewmartin.tumblr.com)


End file.
